


disassemble my despair

by incognitajones



Series: Reconstruction Site [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Force-Sensitive Finn, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/incognitajones
Summary: At this point this series has diverged so far from canon that I'm not sure it's worth adding to... but seeingThe Last Jedirekindled all my Star Wars feelings and my desire to write more of it, so here goes.Just think of it as an AU which splits off afterThe Force Awakens.





	disassemble my despair

**Author's Note:**

> At this point this series has diverged so far from canon that I'm not sure it's worth adding to... but seeing _The Last Jedi_ rekindled all my Star Wars feelings and my desire to write more of it, so here goes. 
> 
> Just think of it as an AU which splits off after _The Force Awakens_.

Poe was one of the few people Rey trusted to fly her anywhere, but her fingers still twitched with the desire to grab the throttle out of his hands. She vibrated in the co-pilot’s chair, curling her hands into fists and pressing them against her thighs to keep her legs from jittering.

Through the cloudy viewscreen of the shuttle, Takodana was just as lushly, extravagantly green as the first time Rey had seen it. But she found it far less soothing today. Her nerves were tuned to a high frequency at the prospect of seeing Finn and Ben Solo for the first time in six standard months. 

Poe looked sideways at her, his expression divided equally between fondness and annoyance. “Finn is just fine. You’ve seen all his holos, you know that.” He took one hand off the throttle to punch her upper arm. “He’s even said nice things about Mister Ex-Darkside. So relax.” 

But Rey couldn’t sit still any longer. She needed to be at the ramp, ready to bolt off the ship as soon as it landed. Unbuckling her harness, she stood and reached for the grab rail overhead. “Just shut up and land this thing,” she called over her shoulder as she ducked out of the cockpit.

“Yes, ma’am, Captain Jedi Knight,” Poe drawled with mocking deference.

The cheap, bare-bones shuttle was hardly more than a box with hyperdrive. With no sensor array or external camera feed in the cargo bay Rey couldn’t view Maz’s half-demolished fortress, the lake, or the meadow in front of it as Poe banked into a descending loop. She tried to restrain her racing imagination. She hoped that Finn and Ben had managed to work together; she told herself that she was equally prepared to find them in a barely civil state of amnesty.

The shuttle jumped up and then dropped heavily on its landing gear. Rey stumbled against the bulkhead and bit her tongue. Swearing at Poe, she slammed the ramp button as soon as the lock turned blue. The metal walkway unfolded slowly, groaning, and Rey bounced anxiously on her toes. 

Finn and Ben stood at the foot of the ramp, two dark silhouettes against the Takodanan sun that was setting almost directly in her eyes. She shook her head, squinted and raised a hand to shade her vision. Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t the two of them shirtless and dripping wet. 

“Catch!” Finn shouted, and hurled something at her face.

Without thinking Rey twisted the Force around her to grab it. In the instant she realized it was a globe of water held together by nothing but Finn’s skill it burst, splattering at her feet and soaking her up to her thighs. 

Poe, having just arrived in the cargo bay behind her, was luckier. He was only doused to the knees.

Stunned, Rey wiped droplets of water off her face. Finn doubled over, clutching at his knees and howling with laughter. She wanted to be annoyed, but Finn’s unrestrained glee at catching her off guard was disarming. And Ben was standing next to him—smiling?

“What the hell?!” Poe ran down the ramp and hugged Finn. “Is this how a Jedi says hello? Water bombs?”

“Good to see you too, man.” Finn pounded Poe’s shoulder, still grinning as idiotically as an X-wing pilot who’d just pulled off a really ill-advised maneuver. “I’ll have you know that’s a serious training exercise. Takes a lot of control over the water’s surface tension to keep it in a ball.”

Rey was reluctantly impressed. That actually made sense, even if every cell of her desert-raised flesh protested the waste of moisture.

“We only do it when Maz says the garden needs watering.” 

Rey hadn't realized just how close Ben had moved until he spoke; he was standing directly beneath one side of the steep ramp, his neck craned back to see her. His hair was longer, half pulled back in a sloppy braid, and the formerly drawn, pinched lines of his face had relaxed a little. He was still too thin for his height, but he looked… healthier, she decided. 

Rey swallowed and tried to smile at him. “Well, it looks like you’ve taught Finn quite a bit. Thank you.”

“I can't take much credit.” Ben looked down at his muddy bare feet. “He’s a good student. Very disciplined.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s always telling me to pay more attention.” Finn bounded up the ramp, metal ringing under his feet, and pulled Rey into a crushing hug. “Boy, I don’t know whether I’m happier to see you guys or the tools you brought. It’ll be a lot easier to rebuild this place with some modern technology.”

“Oh, come on, Finn.” Rey ruffled his hair, which had grown out into a fuzzier cloud than his usual tight-shorn cap. Putting on a suitably solemn expression, she intoned one of Luke’s cherished platitudes. “The body and the living Force should work in harmony.” 

She trailed off as a deeper voice joined hers, speaking the same words in counterpoint. 

Ben’s mouth pulled down at one side. “That was always his answer when I whined about chopping wood.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away toward the setting sun. “Let’s call it a day, Finn. We can clean up and then find some dinner for our guests.”

Finn whooped and sprinted down the ramp, running for the shore. He hurtled into the lake and splashed in up to his neck, spraying gouts of water in all directions. Ben followed at a more sedate pace until the water was at his waist and then fell backward to float with his limbs splayed out, his face barely above the surface. 

Finn lobbed another water bomb at Ben which he batted away with a twitch of his finger before both of them stood and waded out of the lake, yanking up sodden pants that hung low on their hips. 

“We’ll get dried off and see you in half an hour!” Finn shouted. He broke into a jog and disappeared around the corner of a tumbledown wall, still holding up his pants. Ben raised one hand in a casual wave and ambled after him.

Poe swore under his breath. “I’m going to have a heart attack and Finn won’t even notice.”

“Well.” Rey blinked and blinked again, but it didn’t erase the afterimages of wet skin and clothing from her head. She cleared her throat. “I guess they’re getting along okay.”

 

The breeze off the lake was cool at Ben’s back, but the fire was hot on his face. Its light was kind to the remnants of Maz’s castle. Ripples of light and shadow softened the cracks and scorched blaster marks on the sand-coloured stone. With the fallen courtyard walls piled into neat stacks of rubble, nothing blocked the light of the thickly strewn stars. 

Rey and Finn babbled incessantly, voices tumbling and overlapping, arms flailing as they gestured at each other. They’d hardly stopped talking long enough to eat. Ben had assumed the numerous messages they’d exchanged ought to have kept them well-informed about the mundane details of each other’s lives, but apparently he was wrong and they still had months’ worth of news to catch up on. Poe made contributions to Rey’s stories every now and then, but seemed content to mostly listen and watch.

Ben stared down at the dirt in front of his crossed legs. He found a pea-sized nugget of broken stone and rolled it between his fingertips, concentrating on the grittiness of it against his skin. The sensation brought him back to the earliest days of his apprenticeship when he’d learned that focusing on a small, concrete object helped to centre him—sometimes.

“The reunion of friends is always worth celebrating.” Maz shuffled out of a dark doorway in the half-reconstructed wing of the building, a dark glass bottle dangling from one hand. She boosted herself up to sit on a chunk of stone beside Poe as he shifted to make room. “This should be suitable.”

Poe laughed. “Depends what’s in that bottle, Maz. Rey doesn’t drink.”

“You mean I don't drink that rotgut you pilots make.” Rey shoved at his thigh playfully. “I’ll give it a try, as long as it’s not cortryg brandy. Right, Ben?”

He looked up, startled, and couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth from lifting in response to her self-deprecating grin. 

“I’ve no idea what it is, but I found an entire case of it in the storerooms last week.” Maz poured out five measures in tiny earthenware cups and passed them round the fire. “What shall we drink to?”

“To peace,” Finn said, and from him it didn’t sound ridiculous.

“Peace,” they all echoed, and drank. The liqueur was thick on the tongue but strangely effervescent in the back of Ben’s throat, with a heady floral taste that plunged him back into the gardens of Malreaux roses on Naboo, a place he hadn’t been in twenty years. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the haunting memory.

The lenses of Maz’s goggles flared into mirrored discs of fire as she turned to Rey. “Now tell me, young Jedi, what have you brought me from Leia?”

“Heavy construction tools, some tech components to help get communications back up to speed. A couple of private messages.” Her gaze slid furtively over Ben, and he knew that at least one of them would be for him. He hunched his shoulders, staring at the empty cup in his hand. He didn't have to watch his mother’s recording; Rey couldn’t compel him if he refused. She’d just look disappointed.

Maz perked up. “Any word from Chewbacca?”

“Just that he’ll be sure to visit once you’re up and running again.”

“Good, good.” Maz tipped the last drops of the bottle into their cups. “Unfortunately, that won’t be for some time.”

“I’m amazed at how much you’ve done, though,” Poe said. “I remember this place as a burning ruin.”

Of course Poe would say that. Ben’s face turned hot from his neck to his hairline. He hoped the ruddy light of the fire concealed it.

“Finn and Ben are quite the earthmovers,” Maz said. Like a queen on her throne, she waved at the piles of neatly stacked stone surrounding them. “They’ve sorted most of the rubble and we’re almost ready to start rebuilding.”

Rey straightened from her slouch and looked at Finn. “You can do that now?”

“Yeah.” Finn had finished his second glass and his proud grin shone bright. “I’ll show you!”

In the corner of the courtyard, chunks of the statue of Maz that had once towered over the gate were piled. One of the biggest pieces—half of a forearm ending in a hand with two fingers broken off—began to crawl over the others with the grating noise of stone scraping against stone. It trembled, lifting into the air, and slowly rose about six metres straight up before toppling over and falling toward the ground fingers first. 

A breath from smashing into the ground, it froze, caught in the combined net of Ben and Rey’s minds.

“Whoa, buddy!” Poe grabbed Finn’s arm. “Set her down gently, there.” 

Finn turned ruddy in the firelight, sweat shining at his hairline. But the arm slowly tilted back to horizontal position and settled to the ground with barely a puff of dust. Once it was safely landed, Ben snapped, “Perhaps you should demonstrate your prowess to Rey another time, when you’re not intoxicated.”

Rey snorted with laughter. “Don’t let him tease you, Finn. Ben knows better than most that alcohol and the Force don’t mix.” She winked at him. 

He couldn’t believe she thought their brandy-fueled confrontation on the Falcon was suitable joking material—but that was Rey. Disasters anyone else would sensibly avoid, she threw herself at headlong. He was just one example.

 

Next morning’s training session started off awkwardly. They all had headaches from whatever liqueur it was that Maz had unearthed. Rey said that she only wanted to observe, and she tried to be unobtrusive, but her curiosity was so intense that it kept throwing Finn off. Ben knew he was on probation, too—which made him irritable, which made him clamp down tighter on his Force presence, which was hardly conducive to teaching well. 

It got to the point that Dameron sauntering down to the shore was a welcome interruption. He called out, “I need some help unloading the shuttle before I can take off.” 

Finn jumped eagerly to his feet, but Poe shook his head and pointed at Ben. “I’ll take the tall one. Some of those crates are stacked pretty high.”

Ben ground his teeth at Dameron’s bland refusal to employ any subtlety. Still, he supposed it didn’t matter. Rey and Finn needed time to talk privately; how they got it was immaterial. He sighed and followed Poe around to the castle’s landing pad on the other side of the compound.

Somehow, it had escaped serious damage during the First Order attack; cracks in the deep-laid blocks of stone were the only evidence of the bombardment. Early morning mist gathered over the lake like steam and the air was chilly on this shadowed side away from the sunrise, but hauling boxes, even with the help of a hover flatbed, was sweaty work. 

Ben shoved the last crate of tools into place in the storeroom and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “Do you want to start opening these?” he asked.

“I’ll let you and Maz handle the unpacking. I’ve got to head back to base.” Dameron shrugged his jacket back on, but didn’t move from where he stood, blocking the doorway to the outer courtyard. 

Ben had assumed Dameron was past the urge for physical revenge, but maybe he’d been wrong. He thought about reaching out to pry into the other man’s head—carefully, not with violence—and then he bit the inside of his lip, hard, for a distraction. How long would he have to resist the instinct to break in? Would that always be his first impulse? 

He brushed the dust from his hands and waited instead.

“I’ve been doing what you asked and keeping an eye on the General. As much as possible,” Dameron added, clearly feeling that statement needed qualification. “And I want something in return.” He squared his shoulders, crossed his arms and stared at Ben. The body language was intimidating, even if it was undercut by the fact that the other man was unarmed and six inches shorter. “Don’t let Rey leave too soon. She needs some down time. You and Finn have to find a way to keep her here.”

Ben bristled at the peremptory assumption of authority in the other man’s voice—but he agreed with him. He’d seen the wan exhaustion in Rey’s face, the way the hollows under her cheekbones were deeper than they used to be. 

“What’s Skywalker doing to her?” he demanded. It would be just like his uncle to push Rey far past her endurance in the service of his so-called greater good.

“Hey, he’s working himself just as hard. But they’re the only trained Jedi left and it’s taking all they’ve got to keep up with your leftovers. Maybe you could start pulling your weight sometime soon.”

Ben opened his mouth to argue before he understood what Dameron was saying. He blinked. That was… not what he’d expected. “Did I hear that right? You’re saying you think I should help hunt down the rest of the Knights?”

“Takes one to catch one, I figure.” Dameron shrugged and his eyes hardened with something colder than his habitual careless good cheer. “And as long as you’re not dead, you might as well be useful.”

“That’s not the general consensus,” Ben muttered. He shoved his hands into his pockets for lack of anything better to do with them.

“No.” Dameron’s tone was uncharacteristically mild. “But Rey seems to think there’s a point to keeping you around. And Finn believes you’re trying. Of course, he’s the easiest-going guy alive.”

“Seriously?” Ben’s mouth twitched in an unwilling smirk. “You don’t know him as well as you think.”

Dameron scowled. “Just keep in mind that I don’t want to see Rey back on base any time soon. Three standard weeks would be a good start, but the longer, the better.” 

“She’ll have to call for a shuttle back,” Ben pointed out. “If nothing else, I can always arrange for a comms outage.”

Dameron turned to leave, but not before Ben caught the sharp corner of his smile. “You are definitely your father’s son.”

That didn’t hurt nearly as much as it would have, once. The pain even carried a trace of pride. 

 

“Break time, peanut.” Rey leaned back on her elbows and beamed at Finn. Her pure, uncomplicated joy at seeing him welled up again. It was so much simpler being with Finn than with anyone else in her life. “Sit down and tell me what else you’ve learned.”

Finn flopped down in the grass on his back, resting his head on his crossed arms. “Well, it’s not all water fights and hijinks. He’s taught me a few more advanced things.”

Rey asked a few questions about technique, but mostly Finn was happy to talk about their training routine without prompting. It was strange to hear him use the name “Ben” with respect and even a hint of liking.

The more he talked, the better she felt about her impulsive choice to send him off. She’d always known Finn had the potential to be truly powerful no matter what he chose to do, but he’d developed and deepened so much in the Force over these last months. His presence was a beacon beside her, calm and steady in his strength, bright as a burning flame. 

She had to probe a little deeper, though, and she wasn’t sure how to ask what she needed to know. “I was surprised to see Ben so lighthearted yesterday.”

Finn grinned. “Yeah, every once in awhile he forgets that he doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“What’s he like as a teacher?”

“He’s still an asshole roughly 50 percent of the time,” Finn said. “And weirdly hard to get a read on. I mean, you know what he’s feeling in the moment—his face can’t hide anything.”

Rey nodded. 

“So it's obvious when he’s pissed at me for not understanding something, or pleased that I finally got it. But beyond that, he doesn’t give much away.” Finn pushed himself up from the grass and sat cross-legged in front of her. “He’s a little calmer than Kylo Ren was, at least.”

She twisted blades of grass starred with tiny purple wildflowers between her fingers, leaving green stains on her skin. “Has he ever said or done something that felt off? Or made you… I don’t know, uneasy?”

Finn thought for a moment, absently tapping his bottom lip with a thumb. “Only once. We were talking about trooper training for some reason, and he said something about how it would have been so much easier if he’d been allowed to just _make_ them—us—do things properly.” 

His jaw clenched in an intense frown and Rey felt his spiky anger at the memory. “He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he’d never thought of us as people under those helmets, just tools who wouldn’t do what he wanted. I yelled at him, and then we ignored each other for the rest of the day.” He shrugged. “But that was just a stupid comment. He’s never tried it on me as far as I know.” His eyes widened. “Shit. I’d know, wouldn’t I?”

Rey’s brown pinched together; she tilted her head and considered it. “Probably. Ben’s powerful, but I don’t think he has the kind of patience it would take to influence someone gradually. Whenever he tried to break my mind, it was always with brute force, not stealth.” She waved her hands vaguely around her temples to convey her meaning. 

Finn blew out a long breath. “Well, that’s a relief. I guess.”

Rey tucked one of the purple flowers she’d pulled up into a coil of hair behind his left ear, and then another. “Even before you had any training in the Force, you were one of the most strong-minded people I know. You resisted First Order conditioning for years. I don’t think Ben could influence you without your knowledge, even if he were still tied to the dark side.” She hesitated, but that was what it came down to, and after these months, Finn should have a sense of the truth. “Do you think he is?”

Finn shook his head without hesitation. “The guy I’ve spent the last few months with is definitely not Kylo Ren. I don’t know who Ben is—I don’t think he does either, honestly. But I’m not opposed to him having a chance to find out.”

“That’s good to hear.” Rey smiled. “Because in that case, I have a present for you.” She pulled out the little pouch tucked into her belt. “Hold out your hand and close your eyes.”

Finn rolled his eyes first with fond exasperation, but he did as she asked. Rey untied the strings and tipped a dozen chunks of raw, colourless stone into his palm. He opened his eyes and looked a question at her.

“Time to craft your saber, apprentice.” She grinned even wider, delighted at the prospect of helping him build his own weapon. “Luke and I found a cache of kyber crystals hidden in an old Jedi sanctuary, and I’ve been carrying them around for weeks waiting for the chance to bring them to you.”

Finn stared down at the heap of rough gems in his hand. 

“Ben can have one too, if he wants,” Rey added. “I just wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it. If he isn’t ready to make one now, I can always leave a couple of the crystals with him.”

Finn swallowed and his steady presence flickered with self-doubt; it was such a foreign sensation from him that Rey was caught off-guard. She reached out to touch his wrist with two fingertips. “Hey. Are you sure you’re not worried about Ben?”

“No, no.” He looked up at her and forced a cheerful smile. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait for you to tell me all the things I do wrong with my first saber.” He turned his hand over and poured the crystals back into the pouch.

“Oh, come on! I’m not that bad,” Rey protested.

Finn laughed, and reminded her that Poe had banned her from “helping” with his X-wing maintenance after the fifth time she’d modified something without asking because it just made more sense that way. He felt normal again, and she let her concern recede. 

 

The sun was as high as it would get today, pleasantly warm on Ben’s face but not strong enough to burn. He wiggled his shoulders against the ground; the grass itched where it was sticking to his damp skin after their usual post-training swim. Rey was still splashing in the shallows of the lake, practicing her front crawl where she could touch the bottom. Ach-To hadn’t done much for her swimming prowess—the water there was too cold most of the year. 

Finn sprawled next to him, half-asleep, his back speckled with dried grass and crossed by the thick, ropy scar Ben had put there. He stretched out one leg and prodded Finn’s side with his toes. “You have to say something to her soon.” 

“Can't you do it?” Finn groaned and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

“No,” Ben said without sympathy. “Why are you being so timid? You didn't have any trouble telling me.”

“Because I don't care what you think of me.”

A laugh dragged out of Ben's throat. “Fair enough.”

Rey stood up with a splash, her clothes molded to her body. She shivered as she waded to the shore. “Kr-riff, that’s cold!” Ben felt her try to gather the Force around herself for warmth. But her teeth chattered, breaking her concentration.

The air flashed hot and dry as though a bubble of Jakku’s atmosphere had popped into existence around Rey. Her hair sprang away from her head into fuzzy waves as the moisture was sucked out of it. Her clinging tunic and pants dried to stiffness instantly.

She unclamped her crossed arms from around her body. “Thanks, Finn.”

“Wasn’t me.”

She threw Ben a startled glance. “Well. Thank you, then.” 

He shrugged in response, though while he was horizontal the gesture didn’t really come across the same way. “It’s simple enough. You ought to be able to do it in your sleep by now.”

Finn looked over at him in surprise at his contemptuous tone. But Rey only laughed, pulling her fingers through hair left tangled by its sudden drying. Ben felt a confused rush of guilt at the realization that she expected him to speak to her like that. 

He sat up and crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees. “Come here. I’ll show you how.”

Rey rolled her eyes, but dropped to the ground and sat facing him, mirroring his posture. Finn turned over onto his side and propped his head on one hand to watch. 

Ben cupped his hands together in his lap and pulled energy from the surrounding sun-warmed air. A shimmering sphere of radiant heat blossomed between his fingers and the fine hairs on his forearms began to crisp. He drew his hands farther apart, expanding the circumference of the warmth until it was larger but less intense. “Pay attention, Finn. Do you see how this relates to the technique for holding water in a coherent form?”

“Yeah.” Finn sat up and closed his eyes, folding one hand into a fist and yanking heat towards him—a little clumsily, but he got it done.

“I don’t know how to do that, either,” Rey admitted, watching Finn. The bare skin of her neck and chest was flushed and glistening with sweat from the blazing heat he was holding trapped between them. Ben could feel his own face turning red. He turned his palms outward and let the energy dissipate, careful to send it upward and keep it from scorching the grass brown. 

“What the hell is that hermit teaching you, anyway,” he muttered.

Rey glared at him. “How to track Dark Side users who don’t want to be found, mostly. At the moment it’s a lot more useful.”

She pushed herself closer over the grass until her bony kneecaps were pressed against his. “Do it again.” 

He obeyed, keeping the globe smaller and cooler this time. Rey leaned forward to inspect it. Her loose hair swung forward to veil her face and the feathery tips of it brushed his thighs. She swept it back behind one ear and stared narrow-eyed at his fingers.

“Looking at my hands won’t teach you anything,” he pointed out. “Pay attention to what the Force is doing instead.” He released the collected energy again, directing it away from her. “Now you do it.”

Rey straightened her back, drew in a breath, and cupped her hands in front of her. Nothing happened. She set her jaw and tried again: nothing. She made repeated attempts, but seemed to have difficulty manipulating the air currents. Ben couldn’t understand why; she was more than powerful enough to turn this entire field into a wildfire, if she chose, and she ought to have more experience with the energy of heat in general—she was the one who'd grown up in a desert.

After a few minutes, Finn got to his feet. “Not that watching you squint at thin air isn’t thrilling, Rey, but I want to get changed before dinner. Come show me when you can toast a slice of bread.” 

Without looking, Rey growled at Finn and flapped her hand at him in dismissal. Ben pressed his lips together, fighting off a smile at her aggressively competitive streak. She was so vivid and intense in everything she thought and felt. The idea of her trying to flatten herself into the drab serenity of his uncle’s teachings made him nauseous.

“This isn't working,” she huffed. “Show me.”

Ben flexed his fingers, preparing to gather in more warmth. On the far side of the lake, the sun was touching the horizon, and the air around them was growing cooler. Soon they'd have to quit; there wouldn’t be enough ambient warmth to use without a more exhausting expenditure of power.

“I meant _show_ me.” Rey touched two fingers to his wrist. His concentration broken, the heat leapt out of his control and vanished, leaving a small pink blister on his palm. She pulled away instantly, holding her hand up in apology. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. But it would be a lot easier if you’d let me see.”

No longer distracted by the touch, Ben's brain caught up with her meaning. “Oh. Right.” 

He didn’t know whether he was even capable of letting someone see his thoughts any longer; the screens he'd raised to hide his fear had long ago hardened into a thick, impenetrable shell. Snoke was the only one who'd been inside his mind in the years since he’d left Skywalker’s tutelage, other than the time Rey had forced her way in, and those weren’t experiences he cared to repeat. 

“Just the once,” Ben warned her. If it failed, he wouldn’t have the nerve to try a second time. He emptied his lungs fully and deliberately, bowed his head, and tried to loosen the stiff armature of his shields. It felt like a rusted droid’s gears slowly clicking. 

Rey’s attention was like a bright spotlight, carefully focused only on the way he manipulated the Force, keeping her gaze away from the rotten sediment in the dark corners of his mind. Ben was pathetically grateful for the small kindness. Her curious, intent presence felt almost… soothing. 

He drew in a slow breath as he brought his hands together to mold another sphere of heat and then released it, consciously thinking about each step of the process instead of doing it by rote. He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he heard Rey’s delighted laugh, and opened them to see a ball of incandescent air wobbling between her cupped fingers.

“Thank you.” She grinned up at him, her features wavering like a mirage behind the heat. “Can we try it with water now?”

“It’s getting late,” he hedged. “In the morning, perhaps.”

With a disappointed pout, she flicked her fingers and sent the air away in a puff of warm wind that tossed his hair back. Her mind disentangled itself from his. He shivered, suddenly cold from the contrast of the chilly twilight air.

 

The next morning Rey woke later than usual. Her internal timekeeping was always a little skewed by the different circadian rhythms of a new planet. She’d slept more heavily too, and missed Ben and Finn getting up; their rooms were already empty. 

She wandered through the kitchen, snagging two handfuls of pastries and fruit for breakfast, and crossed through the half-open great hall. Takodana’s sun had barely detached from the horizon in a hazy orange globe when she stepped out onto the terrace that overlooked the lakeshore.

Maz was drinking tea at a weathered stone table and watching Ben and Finn on the grassy field below. They were moving through an unfamiliar series of forms, stripped to the waist. Dawn light gilded their skin and made their profiles as sharp and clear as antique statues of heroic warriors.

Rey sat, and Maz filled another cup and passed it to her. She drank her tea and watched the two men circle each other, automatically assessing the patterns of the unarmed forms and translating them into combat applications. 

“Handsome young men, eh? They’re no Wookiees, but I admit that observing their training has been enjoyable.”

Rey snickered. She could see why Maz liked watching; both men were swift, strong, graceful. Finn was classically handsome, and even when he was her enemy she’d been aware that Ben was aesthetically pleasing. His appearance had been irrelevant, though. It didn’t have any impact on his fighting skills, or the way he felt like a rotting abscess in the Force.

It was different now. Rey was usually reduced to grasping at vague metaphors to describe someone’s Force aura. Finn was a steady, bright flame; Luke was a rushing sensation of flight, like the forward momentum of hyperspace. Ben had always felt precariously balanced between control and violence; barely contained, ready to implode or explode at the least touch, like a warp engine at the limits of its stress tolerance. His presence was still deep and vast, but it had changed—thawed into something like a deep lake of still water.

Water was just as dangerous and deadly as sand, Rey reminded herself. Even if she hadn’t felt any malice in his head when he showed her how to draw heat from the air. 

“They’ve been here for a while now. What do you think of them?” she asked Maz.

“Finn is a good man.”

“Of course,” Rey agreed. No one who'd known him for more than five minutes could doubt it. “And Ben?”

Maz flicked a lens down over her left eye and squinted at the two figures moving in synchrony. “That one could be a good man too, if only he can convince himself he doesn’t have to be either a great one or a monster. There's no in-between with him.”

“I've noticed,” Rey said dryly.

“Nothing in life is permanent. Whatever you start bears the seeds of its ending.” Maz flipped a new lens down over her other eye, magnifying them both, and turned her head to stare at Rey. “You should think about what that might be before you begin anything, young Jedi.”

The heat of embarrassment rushed up Rey’s spine to stain her neck. She had only half-admitted to herself that she was attracted to Ben. She hadn’t thought it was that obvious to others. “Are you saying I should be prepared for a bad breakup?”

“I’m saying there are many possible ways this could end, and you ought to consider all of them before you risk knocking over a young man who’s fighting very hard to keep his balance. If entertainment is all you seek, there are less hazardous ways to find it.” Her enlarged eye winked.

“I know it's too dangerous to get involved with Ben.” Rey knew that was true, objectively speaking, and yet she couldn’t recapture the fear and loathing that she’d felt for him before. They had vanished, replaced by something stranger that she shied away from examining too closely.

“Everything we do is dangerous, my dear girl.” Maz sipped her tea placidly. “The real question is always whether what we want is worth the risk.”

Rey watched Finn throw Ben over his back, their bodies curving into graceful lines, and wondered how she was supposed to calculate that.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is adapted from the lyrics to ["Reconstruction Site"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJBEVgnND6k) by the Weakerthans, which gave its name to this series and is a surprisingly apt song for Ben Solo.
> 
> Many people read this story with critical eyes and helped to improve it: Applesith, bittersnake, englishable, narrativeninja, and TehanuFromEarthsea, among others. All of its remaining issues are, of course, on me.


End file.
